


Home is Where the Heart is

by VeryImportantDemon



Category: The X-Files
Genre: But he's super nice, Dana Scully is the best best friend ever, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, He's homeless, Hurt Mulder, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Fox Mulder/Dana Scully, Mulder forgets to pay his rent, Old Married Couple, They're basically an old married couple, sunflower seeds, super cool old lady
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 01:00:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6217288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeryImportantDemon/pseuds/VeryImportantDemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Forgetting to pay your rent has consequences. Consequences that Fox Mulder is about to become very familiar with. He just needs to remember that he doesn't have to be a stranger when it comes to his best friend, his Scully. Forgetting to pay the rent wasn't all bad. He did figure out where his home really was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home is Where the Heart is

**Author's Note:**

> Woo, another sappy X-Files fic! Enjoy!

"Home, sweet, home," Scully breathed, laughing slightly. She'd drawn the rental Tahoe to a stop in front of her apartment building, the engine still humming happily. "I'm not gonna miss you," she told the car. She really wasn't. She'd spent too much time in the godforsaken Tahoe over the past month or so that she might vomit if presented with one in the future.

Scully patted the dashboard one last time before moving her hand to the keys. She let it rest there for a moment, glancing at her sleeping friend curled in the passenger seat. For a grown man, he looked remarkably like a child or a small dog.

Scully knew how reluctant he was to really sleep on a case, so she let him sleep now. He'd push himself and push himself until he couldn't physically go anymore and he'd drop like a stone into a stream. Her partner ate like a bird and never slept as much as he should. She kept trying to convince him - as a doctor and his friend - that it wasn't healthy, but he wouldn't listen. He was 55, the older of the two, and she still felt like she was his mother.

She wouldn't change it for the world.

She smiled slightly and put her hands back on the wheel. She snapped her seatbelt back in, but the slight click it made woke her sleeping friend. Mulder scrunched his face up, yawning softly and stretching. He winced, unbending his cramped limbs, and sat up, facing Scully.

“Where’re we, Scully?” he asked, slurring his words a bit. He was tired, and he definitely looked the part with rumpled clothes, messy hair, and bags under his eyes. She wouldn't admit it to anyone, but sleepy Mulder was a little adorable. Scully smiled again. “We’re at my apartment, Mulder,” she said, switching the Tahoe back into drive with her foot on the brake pedal. “I’m driving you home so you can get your bed and get some real sleep. Go back to bed, I’ll wake you when we get there.”

Mulder shook his head quickly, wincing slightly. “No,” he said. “You don’t… I can walk,” he added, turning to grab the door handle. Scully objected. “Mulder, please…” she said. “You’re exhausted. And it’s February. Just let me drive you home, you’re going to get sick.” Mulder was already opening the car door and tumbling out. He stumbled, pulling himself up, and turned back to Scully. She sighed deeply and slid the car back into park before removing the keys.

“You’re an idiot,” she told him. “Thank you!” Mulder said, holding one hand up in a goodbye as he walked down the sidewalk before dropping it back to his side, his back to his best friend. Scully sighed again. “Take a day off tomorrow!” she shouted back at him, a half-hearted attempt. He didn’t acknowledge the request and kept walking, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets. “Go to bed, Mulder!” she added, a last ditch attempt. Once again, he didn’t acknowledge.

Scully pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. She selected the green messaging icon and sent a quick text to her best friend. Good night, Mulder.

She sat in the car, waiting for him to respond. A few seconds later, her phone hummed in her hand. Goodnight, Scully. Scully smiled at the text and clicked the lock button on her phone before slipping it in her pocket. She clicked her seatbelt off and exited the car, her heels clicking against the asphalt and the concrete when she strode over to the sidewalk. She opened the door of the apartment building but stopped, turning to watch Mulder depart. Slowly, her best friend receded into the darkness. “Goodnight, Fox,” she told him before slipping into the apartment building. “Goodnight, Fox…”

* * *

 

“Mate. Hey, hey, man. Wake up.”

Mulder groaned softly, rolling over and squeezing his eyes shut, covering his ears with his hands. “No,” he told the voice. “No, Scully… Five… Five more minutes…” The voice sighed deeply, a masculine sigh. A sigh that definitely wasn’t Scully’s. “Hey, man. Seriously. Wake up.”

Mulder finally opened his eyes , almost having to pry his eyelids apart. A pair of black sneakers was the first thing he saw. He blinked a few more times, sitting up. His suit jacket fell off, pooling on top of his legs. He served the man before him, blinking again and squinting up.

His landlord.

“Sorry about that…” he mumbled, pulling himself to his feet and picking up his jacket, draping it over his shoulder. “You’re glad I didn’t catch you sleeping in the hallway last night or I would’ve kicked you out,” the landlord told Mulder knowledgably. “Yeah, yeah, thanks,” Mulder said sarcastically, starting down the hall. He stopped for a second, coughing into his elbow. The brief spell lasted a few seconds before he stopped, tugging the bottom of his white button-up down. “Your stuff’s down in storage,” the landlord added. “Thanks,” Mulder said again, the bright yellow eviction notice taped to his old door smugly grinning at him as he walked away.

Well, he’s a dick, Mulder thought as he traipsed down the stairs towards the main lobby. The only reason he’d put up with the guy as long as he had was because his apartment was really nice, and Mulder really didn’t feel like moving his couch.

Fox Mulder wasn’t the greatest at remembering to do important things, like eating, sleeping, or paying his rent. It was usually Scully who reminded him to pay it. His rent had been due a week after they’d left for a month-long case, and unfortunately, that was his third strike. He’d returned at 1am to figure out that he’d been evicted. Exhausted, the special agent had simply dropped to the carpet of the hall right outside of his old door and slept. His joints, already cramped from napping in the front seat of the Tahoe, weren’t thanking him. He was too old for this…

He yawned again, stretching, and blinked when he emerged into the bright, cold sunlight of the February morning. He blinked and coughed again harshly into his elbow, a deep, rattling sound deep in his chest. He drew in a deep breath and swung his jacket around, sticking his arms through and pulling it around over his chest. He pulled his sleeve up slightly, checking his watch. 6:54. At least he still had time to get to work…

* * *

 

Mulder meandered down the sidewalk, trying vainly to make himself look presentable. After a moment or two, he gave up, sticking his hands in his pockets. He found his phone and pulled it out, not surprised that he didn’t have any messages. Anyone who would be trying to contact him would probably be asleep. Like any normal, sane person would be.  He heaved a sigh as the FBI headquarters building loomed above him and dropped his phone back into his pocket, heading inside.

He wandered past the assistant director’s office on his way to his and Scully’s office. As Mulder past, the handle rattled and the door opened and Mulder was greeted. “Good morning, Mulder,” Skinner said. Mulder stopped in front of the door and briefly saluted his old friend. “Morning, sir,” he said.

“You’re here early,” Skinner observed. “Thought you would’ve slept in. Scully told you to take the day off, didn’t she?” Mulder nodded slowly. Skinner didn’t really need to know that Mulder went and got himself, evicted did he? He was a grown man. After work – maybe even during lunch – he’d call his landlord and pay him, get his apartment back. And all it would cost him was a night in the hall and whatever ridiculous amount his landlord would want. “Thought I’d come in anyway. Don’t have anything else to do today.” Skinner rolled his eyes. “You look like shit,” he informed the younger agent. “You sure you don’t need to take a day?” Mulder shook his head quickly. “No. I’m great. A+. I don’t know about that Tahoe, though… Scully wasn’t liking it too much towards the end.” Skinner laughed. “I’m sure she wasn’t.”

Mulder offered the A.D another mock salute and headed back down the hall towards his office.

He finally arrived at his office and sighed happily at the door. Their office. His paradise. He twisted the doorknob and headed inside. He closed the door behind him and made a beeline for his desk, dropping into the desk chair. Behind him, a familiar sight declared, I want to believe. He stripped his jacket off and draped it over the back of his chair. Turning back to his desk, he paused to cough again. Looking at the paperwork sprinkled all over his desk, Mulder made a split second decision. He firmly planted his forehead on his desk and was snoring in moments.

The special agent was woken up in what felt like moments but was actually a few hours by his closest friend opening and closing the door to his office. “Scully,” he whined, lifting his head up and groaning. “I was sleeping…”

“Oh, ha ha, Mulder,” Scully replied. “It’s almost noon!” In direct contradiction to Mulder’s exhausted appearance, Scully looked like she’d actually gotten a good night’s sleep. She was dressed in a nice, crisp outfit, her hair styled neatly. She headed over to her desk, depositing her bag on her desk before looking up and over at her friend. He, on the other hand, had a pallor to his skin that didn’t look very healthy and was wearing the same thing he’d been wearing last night when she’d seen him. “Mulder,” she chastised. “How long have you been here? You’re still wearing the exact same thing you were wearing last night…”

He shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. He didn’t need to tell Scully for the same reason he didn’t need to tell Skinner. She would worry a hell of a lot more for nothing, because he was going to repair all of it. (Although not at lunch like he’d planned. He’d sort of slept through it.) “Didn’t feel like picking a new outfit. I woke up at… 7ish? Decided to just come in. Looked at all this paperwork we have to file because of the case and I just… It bored me to sleep, Sc-” He stopped, ducking his head and coughing harshly. He started trying to cover his mouth with his elbow but lowered it after a few moments to wrap his hand around the arm rest of his chair. Scully frowned deeply, crossing over to her friend’s desk. “Mulder,” she said, concerned, putting the back of her hand to his forehead. She frowned again. “You’re a little warm, are you-” He cut her off, the coughing tapering off, and sat up straight. “I’m great,” he told her. “Just peachy.”

Scully sighed reluctantly. “Mulder,” she warned. “You’ll tell me if you get sick, alright? I can help you.” Mulder smiled wryly and held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor, Scully,” he promised. She smiled and lowered her hand. “Good. Alright, so… About those reports…”

Mulder groaned loudly, faceplanting on his desk.

* * *

 

“Mulder?”

“Yes, Scully?”

“What time is it?”

“It’s 5 o’clock, Scully.”

After answering her question, Mulder leaned forward to grab another pencil from his desk, wincing slightly. He leaned back triumphantly, the thin sliver of orange-yellow wood in his fingers. He leaned back further, propping his feet up on his desk. With the precision accuracy of a man who has been incredibly bored for an extensive amount of time, he launched the sharpened pencil from his hand. It flew from the agent’s fingers and connected with the ceiling, the lead tip digging in. It joined the countless other pencils jammed into the ceiling along with it.

Scully glanced up from her desk, taking her glasses off, and sighed. “Mulder,” she chastised. “What, Scully?” he said, feigning innocence. “Stop throwing pencils at the ceiling.” Mulder scoffed, indignant. “Me?” he said. “Me? Throwing pencils? You must have me confused for someone else. I would never do that.” Scully sighed again. She sighed a lot around Mulder. “Anyway,” she said, “it’s 5. You want to go grab a bite to eat?” He tilted his head, thinking for a moment. He was going to call up his ex-landlord and see about getting his place back, but dinner with Scully sounded a lot more pleasant. “Yeah,” he said. “That’d be great.”

He stood up and turned to swing his jacket around his shoulders, blinking a few times to clear a brush of vertigo. He wiggled into the jacket and turned back to Scully, smiling. “Where to, milady?” he crossed the office and offered her his arm. Scully rolled her eyes and took it, laughing. "I don't know," she said. "There's this new cute little sandwich shop kinda close to here. You want to check it out?" Mulder nodded, smiling. "Love to," he said. "Only if you're paying."

Scully laughed. "Such a gentleman," she said as they left the office together. "I am being a gentleman," Mulder said. "I am standing up for women's rights by letting you pay for our dinner." Scully rolled her eyes. "Are you, now?" she asked, smiling. Mulder shook his head. "Nah, I'll pay. I've got my wallet. And you don't seem to have yours."

Scully stopped for a moment, thinking, before she slapped him on the arm, laughing. He was dangling her wallet between his fingers. "Mulder, give it back!" Obligingly, he dropped it into her waiting hand. In turn, she stuck it in her bag, hitting the elevator button with her free hand. Her other was still linked with Mulder's. "I took it out of your bag when you went to the bathroom," he explained.

"You're an idiot," she told him matter-of-factly. "Thank you," Mulder told her honestly, and he was smiling, too. Right then, that moment in the elevator with Dana Scully on his arm... He didn't think about anything else but the present, and he was the happiest man on the planet.

"So, what's this sandwich place called?" he asked her as the elevator doors slid open and the pair stepped out. "You'll see," she said cheekily. It was Mulder's turn to sigh and smile. "Are we walking or driving?" he asked. Scully pulled a face. "Walking," she said. "I had to drive the Tahoe here today because I haven't had a chance to take it back yet, but I am not getting back in that thing until I take it back to the rental place, and then I will rejoice."

Mulder laughed, pushing his hair back from his forehead with his other hand. "Yeah," he agreed. "You and me both, Scully..."

Easy conversation carried them the three blocks towards the sandwich shop, and when they arrived, Mulder stopped. "Scully," he said slowly. "Really?" She laughed, shaking her head. "You have got to be kidding me."

Scully laughed again, and Mulder couldn't help it. When Scully was happy, he was happy. She was contagious. And something about seeing her smile curled his own lips up and warmed his heart. He would do just about anything to keep that smile on her face.

'The Fox's Den' is what the sign on the sandwich shop proclaimed. A cheery drawing of a cartoon fox accompanied it, the tail wrapping around the ‘n’ as it happily stretched out, laying above the word ‘Fox’s’.  “I can’t believe you, Scully,” he told her seriously. She laughed again and pulled him towards the door. “Come on, Mulder,” she said. “I’m hungry. It looks really good. And you might even be able to get a discount because your name’s-” Mulder cut her off. “Don’t do it, Scully,” he warned. “Don’t you dare.”

His partner cheekily grinned at him and said finally, “Fox.” Mulder groaned loudly. “Scullyyyyy,” he whined, dragging out the ‘y’. He pulled the door open and ushered his friend inside, a tinkling bell announcing their entrance. She finally separated their linked arms and went ahead to the counter. The shop was decorated quaintly. It was a little adorable, if Mulder did have to say. Cute tables and chairs with an intricate swirling pattern forming the back. Pastel paintings tastefully decorated the cream-colored walls. A handful of them were of foxes. The décor made him smile, but not as much as when he looked ahead.

Scully was chatting with the woman at the counter who was wearing a uniform with an apron tied around her waist. Mulder waited, still standing in the doorway of the sandwich shop. “Hello,” Scully said, smiling at the woman. “My friend was wondering if perhaps we could get a discount because his first name is Fox.” The woman laughed and smiled, tucking a strand of chocolate brown hair behind her ear. “I’ll see what I can do. Is it just the two of you today, ma’am?” Scully nodded. “Yes, just the two of us.” She turned and spotted Mulder, still standing at the door. She laughed at him and beckoned him with a slight jerk of her head. “Come on, Fox,” she said with a smile, her face lighting up, her beautiful hair falling in a curtain over her shoulders. She looked beautiful.

Fox smiled and joined her in the light.

* * *

 

Mulder laughed, his elbows on the table and his head in his hands, watching Scully. He wasn’t even sure what she was talking about, some story from when she was back at the Academy, maybe. It didn’t really matter what it was, but she was so animated, so excited about the story… She looked so alive telling it. She looked happy, and it made him happy just by being near her. She’d always had that effect on him. When she was happy, he was happy.

“So, anyway,” she said, and Mulder pulled himself out of his musing thoughts enough to actually pay attention to what she was saying. Scully looked him up and down for a moment, a smile still curling her lips up. “You weren’t listening to a word I just said, were you?” she asked. Mulder laughed and shook his head. “Not a word,” he answered, removing his elbows and wiping his mouth with his napkin. He hadn’t eaten much of his sandwich or his soup. He just hadn’t felt particularly hungry, lately. Scully laughed and tossed her head back, rearranging her hair. “I thought so,” she said.

Mulder shrugged. “I just got caught up watching you,” he explained. “I had absolutely no idea what you were talking about but you just looked so excited I got caught up.” Scully smiled again and licked her thumb. She leaned over the table and wiped something from the corner of Mulder’s mouth and then pushed his messy bangs back. “Your hair never ceases to amaze me,” she said, sitting back in her chair. “It’s the real X-File. How it has a mind of its own…” Mulder smiled again. “I’ll type up a file when I get back to the office,” he told her. Scully shook her head and smiled. “Seriously, Mulder,” she said. “You are an idiot.”

“I know that, Scully,” he said. “You’ve been telling me for years.” Scully clucked her tongue fondly. “Are you going to finish your sandwich?” she asked. He shook his head. “Nope. Not really hungry.” She frowned. “Hm… Alright, ready to go?” Mulder nodded. “Yeah. You want the rest of this?” Scully thought for a moment. “I’m going to say yes because I’m 98% sure you’re going to forget about it.” Mulder laughed. “That’s a good point.” He wrapped the sandwich up in the paper it came in and slid it over to Scully. They both stood up at the same time, pushing their chairs back. “I’ll clean the rest of this up while you go pay,” she said. Mulder nodded and smiled before heading back up to the counter with their ticket. He pushed his chair back in and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket as he strode up to the counter.

Producing the ticket for the same dark-haired woman at the counter, he opened his wallet. His heart sank when he saw the dollar bills folded inside. There weren’t many, and they reminded him of his predicament. He still had to call his landlord and get him first and last for his place… His eyes travelled over to the display cabinet where a chocolate cupcake with a swirl of chocolate icing and a small candy heart in the center caught his eyes. He glanced back at Scully tidying their table, and smiled. He looked back at the woman at the counter. “Could I get that, too?” he said, motioning to the cupcake. It would be worth it to see Scully happy.

The woman laughed again, taking his ticket. She tapped a few things into the cash register and then put the ticket down. She moved behind the display case and grabbed a cardboard box along with the cupcake, boxing it quickly. She placed it on the counter and tapped at the cash register a few more times. “You’re a lucky man,” the woman said as she worked. “Yeah, I am,” he agreed.

“$15.30,” the woman said, producing a receipt. Mulder pulled a 20 dollar bill out of wallet and handed it to her. She smiled as she accepted it. “Your wife really is something,” she said. “Yeah,” Mulder agreed. He blinked, taking his change back. “Wait, no, she’s n-” The waitress laughed, stopping Mulder’s ‘we’re not together’ explanation. “Yeah,” Mulder said, shaking his head and closing his wallet, stuffing it back in his pocket. The woman behind the counter gently pushed the box containing the cupcake towards him. He scooped it up, giving the woman at the counter a warm smile and a ‘thank you’.

“Ready to head out, Mulder?” Scully asked, finished tidying up and heading towards him. Mulder smiled again and turned, holding the box out. “I got you a present,” he said slyly. “Fox Mulder,” she chastised. “You’re spoiling me. You didn’t have to get me anything.” He laughed and walked side-by-side with Scully on the way out of the sandwich shop.

“It’s not much,” he said. “But I thought you might like it.” This time, Scully pulled the door open, the bell tinkling to announce their departure. Mulder stepped out in front of her and waited just outside the door for her to join him. He handed her the box when they started back towards the office together, the sun setting quickly. It was nearly dark already.

The agents fell easily into step with each other as Scully opened the lid of the cardboard box. She laughed, smiling widely when she saw what was waiting inside it. “Mulder,” she said, slapping his arm. “It looks delicious. You didn’t have to buy me this.” He shrugged and smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling up slightly. “It’s no problem,” he said. “I’m happy to do anything for you, Scully,” he said honestly.

She smiled and closed the lid back on the box. “I will definitely eat this later tonight and enjoy it,” she told him.

Once again, they slipped easily into conversation on the way back to the office. Talking with Scully made him forget his problems. Talking with Scully, easy, friendly conversation, transported him to a world where everything was perfect, even after all these years. Talking with Scully was timeless.

The FBI building looming above the pair pulled Mulder out of his reverie. “I’ll drive home,” they both said at the same time before laughing together. “I guess we’re just such good friends that we finish each other’s…” Scully tapered off, waiting expectantly. Mulder paused, frowning. He looked Scully up and down quickly, noting the doggie bag in the hand that wasn’t occupied with his gift. “…Sandwiches?” Scully shook her head and laughed fondly. “Really, Mulder,” she said. “Like I was saying, I’ll-”

Mulder cut her off again. “Drive,” he finished. “I’ll drive. I’ll drop you off at your place and then take the Tahoe back to the rental place. You are sick of it, aren’t you?” Scully smiled and nodded. “So sick of it,” she repeated. “So tired of that car… Alright, I can agree to that, Mr. Mulder,” she said, digging the keys out of her bag, sticking the bag containing Mulder’s sandwich under her arm. She tossed them to him and he moved to snap them out of the air, but he moved too slowly and they smacked him in the face before clattering to the parking lot. Scully burst into laughter and Mulder huffed, disgruntled. “Come on, Scully,” he said, stooping down to pick them up. He coughed slightly when he rose, wincing.

Scully was still laughing, her cheeks flushed pink. “Oh my god, Mulder,” she said between gasps for air. “Mulder, they just… You…  Mulder!” Mulder huffed again, holding the keys in his hand. “It’s not that funny, Scully,” he dismissed. Scully gasped again, finally regaining her breath. She shook her head, fixing her hair behind heading towards the Tahoe with Mulder in tow. He tapped the key fob, still disgruntled, and they both climbed inside.

They were pulling up to Scully’s apartment building within 20 minutes and they’d only scuffled over the radio twice. Armed with her cupcake, Mulder’s half-eaten sandwich, and her own bag, Scully moved to open the door. She pulled on the handle and stepped out but stopped, turning to look at Mulder. “I’ll be back at work tomorrow at 7 o’clock sharp,” she said. Mulder nodded. “I’ll see you then,” he said. Scully shook her head. “No, you won’t,” she said. “I said I’m going to be there at 7:00. If you’re there any time before noon, I will personally march you out and lock you in your apartment. A good night’s sleep should take care of that cough you’ve got.” Mulder feigned ignorance, shrugging. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he commented, turning back to the wheel. Scully clucked her tongue and continued talking.

“Take a few Tylenol when you get home, too,” she said. “You were a little warm earlier. It should bring that down.” Mulder rolled his eyes and smiled. “Yes, Mom,” he said. Scully smiled fondly. “Alright,” she said. “See you tomorrow, Mulder.” He nodded. “See you tomorrow, Scully.”

She closed the car door behind her and crossed around the front of it, heading towards the door. Mulder waited, the engine of the Tahoe humming happily. She stopped a few feet away from the car, her back to it, before turning and coming back. She knocked on Mulder’s window and he rolled it down. “Yeah, Scully?” he said. She put one foot on the running board and leaned up, kissing him on the forehead. “Goodnight, Fox Mulder,” she said, leaning back, her feet firmly planted on the ground.

“Goodnight, Dana Scully,” Mulder said. Scully smiled again, her rosebud lips tilting up slightly before she turned away. She was illuminated by the warm glow of a street lamp until she disappeared into the building.

Mulder smiled.

* * *

 

As soon as Scully was safely inside, Mulder flipped the car into drive and trundled down the street. Now he actually had to deal with his problems… He sighed softly. He really didn’t like dealing with his problems. He felt like ignoring them, but he unfortunately didn’t have that option.

He pulled into an empty parking lot a block over from Scully’s apartment building and pulled his phone out of his pocket. The secret agent keyed in his ex-landlord’s number and put the phone up to his ear, waiting for him to answer. While he was waiting, he turned the Tahoe off again, his free hand resting on the keys.

“Whadda you want?” His landlord’s grumpy voice finally picked up after 5 rings. “Hey,” Mulder said, sitting up straighter instinctively. “It’s Fox Mulder, I was calling about-” The landlord sliced through his words. “I’m not giving you the place back, Mulder,” he said harshly. Mulder huffed. “Come on,” he said weakly. He paused for a second to cough in his elbow before he continued speaking. “I can pay you first and last and a little extra. I need a place to stay.”

The man on the other end of the line exhaled. “Hey, man,” he said. “I’m sorry, but…” Mulder took his turn and cut the other man off. “No, you’re not.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m not. Even if I wanted to give you the place back, I can’t. Got a waiting list for this building and I’ve already got someone signing the agreement.” Mulder moaned softly and dropped his forehead against the wheel. “Do you have any other apartments open?” he asked, a half-hearted attempt. “Course not.”

Mulder sighed deeply again, his forehead still pressed against the wheel. “What storage locker is my couch in?” he asked, resigned. He did miss his couch… “31. Don’t call again.” He opened his mouth to speak, but the click of the man on the other end hanging up stopped him.

“There goes that,” he said, removing the phone from his ear. Mulder clicked the green phone icon and fluttered through his contacts. His thumb was hovering above Scully’s name before he really thought about it. He swallowed, hesitating. He could call Scully. Scully would let him stay at her place until he could find his own. Scully would do anything for him, even now. She always would.

But he couldn’t bring himself to call. His ‘asking-for-help’ complex was kicking in again.

He sighed deeply and locked his phone, dropping it into the cup holder of the Tahoe. He had to drop the car off, and then find somewhere to stay… Mulder frowned again. The car… He leaned over to the glove box and pried it open, shuffling around inside it. He leaned back triumphantly with a few papers clutched in his hand. They kept the registration for the Tahoe with them just in case. He flicked through the sheets and pinpointed the date he wanted. They still had another day until they had to pay for more time with the Tahoe.

Good.

He had sleeping arrangements for another day while he searched for an apartment. (And got over that nasty cold, he added dimly as he coughed again into his elbow.)

The problem was he couldn’t let Scully figure out.

Eagle-eyed Scully. The person who knew him better than anyone else in the world.

Should be a piece of cake.

He twisted the keys in the ignition again, and the car rumbled to life. Mulder pulled out of the parking lot in search of a Wal-Mart. He could get some Tylenol. Or maybe he’d swing by the storage unit, grab a new outfit for tomorrow.

* * *

 

“I hate you,” Mulder told the Tahoe as he wandered back up to it, a garment bag and a pair of sweatpants draped over his arm. The sun was firmly behind the Earth now and it was pitch black at only 7:30. Screw winter weather, Mulder thought, shivering slightly as tossed the garment bag into the back seat of the Tahoe before clambering into the front seat and starting the engine again.

“I really, really hate you,” he told the car again as he pulled out of the storage facility’s parking lot and continued on down the street. “I kinda get why Scully hated you, too,” he said out loud. Luckily, a Wal-Mart loomed in the distance and he didn’t have to drive that far to find it.

Mulder was once again out of the car and heading into the enormous store. He made a bee-line for the aisle that he knew would contain the pharmaceuticals he needed. Skimming it quickly, he found the bottle of Tylenol. “Aha,” he declared, scooping it up. The big bottle, too. Which was good, because he was probably going to need it. He was starting to feel all-around achy.

On his way out of the aisle, a bottle of something purple caught his eye. He skimmed the label and winced when he added it to his hand. Grape-flavored cough medicine was Fox Mulder’s foil. He detested it. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered under his breath.

He wandered around the aisles of the grocery section until he finally found his prize. “Gotcha,” he said, snapping up a box and tucking it under his arm, the necks of the medicine bottles in his fingers.

Making his way over to the check-outs, another display caught the agent’s eye. Cheap, soft blankets. When he had to give the Tahoe back, that would definitely come in handy. He added one with a black-and-white pattern to his spoils and finally made his way up to the check-out, the sounds of a bustling store humming in his ears.

_Thump._

Mulder dropped a box containing smaller bags of sunflower seeds on the moving conveyor at the check-out. Quickly, the blanket and the two bottles of medicine followed. On impulse, he added a container of mint gum as he inched his way to the front of the queue. He tugged his leather wallet out of his pocket and pulled it open, sliding a 20 dollar bill out.

He tugged his leather wallet out of his pocket and pulled it open, sliding a 20 dollar bill out.

Fox Mulder wasn’t a praying man, but he sent up a quick one that the 20 would be enough to cover it. Currently, his wallet was void of everything except his driver’s license and a picture he’d slid in. He had money in the bank, but he hadn’t had a chance to go get it. And he wasn’t even really sure how much money he had left…

Finally, it was his turn and he shuffled up to the front of the line, nervously rubbing the 20 between his fingers as the cashier rang up his items. He held his breath, trying his best not to watch the items thrown up on the screen in bright light.

“$25.73,” the cashier finally said. Mulder let out the breath he’d been holding, his shoulders slumping. The gears in his mind started turning; what could he put back and how? He’d be a little embarrassed, but he supposed he could do it if he had to.

A voice sliced through his frenzied thoughts. “It’s alright, ma’am,” she told the woman at the register. “I’ll make up his difference.”

Mulder looked up from the 20 dollar bill in his wringing hands to properly thank the woman who’d saved his hide. “Th-” He stopped when he finally got a look at her. She was an older woman, maybe 65 or 70. She was shorter than him, but most people were; he was an impressive 6 foot or so. Her gray hair was curled neatly.

She bore a striking resemblance to one Maggie Scully.

He swallowed passed the lump in his throat. It wasn’t Maggie, it couldn’t be. Maggie had taken care of him when he had no one else to, and it seemed that this woman was doing it as well. “Thank you,” he said finally. “Really, thank you, ma’am. How can I repay you?” Mulder handed his 20 to the cashier who took it. “$5.73,” she told the older woman behind Mulder.

Mulder’s savior pulled her wallet out of her purse and ruffled through it, pulling out a 10 dollar bill. The cashier went to hand her back the remaining change, but she shook her head. “Give it to this strapping young man up here,” she said, snapping the clasp of her wallet back. Mulder shook his head. “No, ma’am,” he said. “You’re already helping me, I can’t take you money, too.”

M- the woman, not Maggie, laughed. “It’s quite alright,” she told him. “You remind me of my son,” she said. “And besides, I’m paying it forward. You seem like a very nice young man.” She offered him another wide smile as he stuck the $4.27 in his wallet before shoving it back in his pocket.

“Sir?” the cashier asked, bagging his few items. “There’s a soup kitchen a few streets down, if you need a meal.” He smiled slightly. Did he really look homeless? Well, being on a case for over a month followed by sleeping on the floor combined with the fact of that cough he couldn’t get rid of… He’d been wearing the same suit for 2 days and he hadn’t shaved in a while.

Okay, he needed a shower. He could definitely see why - now and way back when, in Atlanta City and probably a few other places – people assumed he was a vagrant

“Thanks,” he told her, gathering up his plastic bag. Mulder looked back at the older woman behind him who was getting her items scanned currently. “Thank you,” he told her again, sincerely. “Really, thanks.” She smiled and waved her hand. “It’s no trouble, really. Take care of yourself.” He smiled slightly. “I’ll try,” he told her as he left the store.

Next stop, shower, he thought. His gym membership wouldn’t expire for a while, and they stayed open until about 10:00 on weeknights. He checked his watch quickly as he loaded the plastic bag into the Tahoe. It was only 8:00. Great, he had loads of time to shower. He’d have to take it easy on his gas because all he had was the $4.27 from the woman at the Wal-Mart he’d just visited. He’d have to stop at the bank sometime tomorrow, too, and get a little bit of money.

And apartment hunting…

Oh, boy, he was busy.

He could call Scully, he thought again as he twisted the keys in the ignition and turned off towards his gym. He could call Scully, definitely. She would let him sleep on her couch, and she would help him find his own place, probably way faster than he’d be able to do it on his own. She’d even, probably, help him get rid of this stupid cough. He should call Scully…

He shook his head and with the gesture, shook the thought away. No, he wouldn’t call Scully. She’d done so much – too much – for him already, and he wouldn’t let her do this for him.

Mulder sighed deeply as he cruised into the parking lot of his gym and wandered inside.

* * *

 

“Mulder! Mulder!”

There was no answer from the man in the shower. He was the only one left in the gym and he’d been showering for about half an hour.  The older gentleman standing outside of the changing rooms sighed. Mulder was one of his oldest customers, and he knew the special agent fairly well. It was why he didn’t feel so bad about throwing him out. He frowned when he heard the sound of a painful-sounding hacking cough coming from the bathroom.

Should he go in and check on him? That didn’t sound too good… The coughing tapered off and the older gentleman called out again. “Hey! Mulder!” There was still no answer. He sighed again and walked inside of the changing rooms, towards where the showered were located. “Mulder!” he yelled, thumping his fist on the wall closest to the showers. There was the quick sound of a thump – he’d probably slipped – and the hurried noises as Mulder turned the water down.

“Yeah?” he called out. “I’m checking out early. Gotta leave early tomorrow morning to go see my granddaughter up in New York. You’re gonna hafta finish up.” Mulder groaned loudly but his towel disappeared from where it hung over the rod holding the shower curtain up. “You’re killing me, Smalls,” Mulder called. “You’re killing me.”

Smalls laughed. The guy did watch his movies… “I’m locking up soon as you’re done,” he added, leaving the showers as Mulder emerged, the towel around his waist, to grab his neatly laid out clothing. 

He tugged the pair of sweatpants on after his underwear and shoved his arms back into his suit jacket. He wiggled his feet into his dress shoes and neatly draped his shirt, pants, and tie over his arm. He tapped his pocket and made sure his wallet was still secured before leaving the changing rooms. He glanced around the darkened gym before up to the main desk where Smalls was waiting. “Thanks for letting me stay as long as I did,” Mulder said with a laugh. The older gentleman shrugged. “No problem.” He slid out of the chair and followed Mulder to the door, pulling out his keys. “Hey, man, you alright?” he said as Mulder waited right outside the gym door while his friend was locking up. “Hm?” the special agent asked, tilting his head. “I said, you alright?” Smalls asked again, locking the doors and sticking the keys back in his pocket. “That cough sounded nasty.”

Mulder smiled wryly. “You and Scully should get together,” he told him as the pair walked towards their cars. “All of your worrying about me.” Smalls chuckled. Knowing Mulder all these years, of course he’d heard about Special Agent Dana Scully. Anyone who knew Mulder for longer than 5 minutes often had. Mulder shook his head. “Just a cough. She’d got me on some pain killers, should be over with in a day or so.”

Smalls nodded. “Great,” he said. “You need anything, Mulder, remember, you get my number. Don’t be a stranger.” Mulder smiled softly. “Don’t be a stranger,” he echoed, loading his clothing into his car.

“Don’t be a stranger,” he repeated when he was successfully buckled into the front seat of the Tahoe. He glanced at his phone in the cup holder beside him and chewed his lip slightly. He could almost see Scully saying the exact same thing, just a little while after they’d become friends. _Don’t be a stranger, Mulder._

Mulder dropped his forehead to the steering wheel and sighed. No. He could do this. He could take care of himself. He was a man, after all. He was an FBI agent, for Christ’s sake. He could find an apartment and take care of himself in the meantime. He would be _fine_ , seriously.

“Don’t be a stranger, Mulder,” he told himself.

* * *

 

_“Help me! Fox, please! Fox! Fox! Help me! Please… Please, Fox! Please, help me!”_

Mulder sat up quickly, sweating slightly, brushing his head against the roof of the Tahoe. He exhaled, closing his eyes again and rubbing his face with his hands. “Come on, Mulder,” he told himself. “Just a dream…” A nightmare he hadn’t had in years. Why was he having it now? He shook his head, running his hand through his hair.

He sighed slightly, trying to stretch out in the car, but failing due to lack of space. He turned his head, coughing into his elbow again. It lasted a little bit longer than the last time he’d had a coughing fit, but it probably wasn’t long enough to be a problem. The special agent reached up to the front seat of the car, his suit jacket that he’d draped over his torso during the night falling to the floorboards. He grabbed his phone and clicked the lock button on the top. 8:32… He still had 3 and a half hours until Scully would let him come back to work… Enough time to head to the bank. And then he really did have to take the Tahoe back to the rental place…

He yawned and stretched again, trying to get himself as ready as he could for work. He tugged his sweatpants off and in the confines on the back seat, pulled a suit and tie on, fumbling with chilled fingers to tie it. He shoved his feet into a pair of socks and pulled on his shoes before climbing back into the front seat and settling down.

* * *

 

Mulder was whistling to himself slightly as he wandered into the office around 11:15. That was late enough, right? And he looked semi-presentable. However, just in case, he ducked into the men’s bathroom. Hunched over a sink, he splashed a bit of water on his face. He squinted at himself in the mirror. He’d need to get out of those disposable razors, because he was getting a bit of stubble… He ran his slightly wet hands through his hair to try and get it looking kind of normal, but his hair never looked great. The real X-File, Scully called it.

Scully…

He wandered back down to their basement office and nervously stuck his head in the door. “Scully?” he called. “Hey, Scully, are you in yet?” His best – and probably only – friend looked up from her desk where she was working on a report and smiled. “Hey, Mulder,” she said. “Yeah, I’m in.” She checked her watch as Mulder crossed to his desk. “I thought I told you not to come in until noon!” Mulder laughed softly. “I couldn’t help it,” he said, shrugging. “I just missed you so much, Scully. I had to come in early and see you.” She rolled her eyes, laughing. Mulder flopped down into his desk and picked up a pencil, about to do God knows what with it, when he coughed again. This time, he frowned, plucking at his tie slightly. It felt like his chest was constricting and he couldn’t breathe for a second.

Scully frowned again, moving to stand up. “Mulder, did you take your medicine last night like I told you to? That doesn’t sound good…” Mulder shook his head again. “No, it’s fine. I’m fine.” Scully sighed deeply. “If you show up for work tomorrow and you’re still coughing, I will drug you and drive you to the hospital myself,” she promised. Mulder nodded slightly, laughing. “Deal,” he said with a smile. “Oh, and Mulder?”

He tilted his head. “Yeah, Scully?”

“You took the Tahoe back after we went to lunch, right?” Mulder hesitated for a millisecond. “Yeah,” he said. “Course. Why?” She shook her head. “The company called me. They said I needed to pay them more if we were going to keep it longer. They must’ve misplaced the paperwork. I’ll call them back…”

Mulder paused before interrupting her. “Hey, Scully, has Skinner given us a case or anything? I’m bored…”

* * *

 

Scully would be lying if she said she wasn’t at least a little bit worried her partner. He was acting strange lately… He wasn’t eating, he didn’t look like he was sleeping, and that cough… It didn’t sound good, a wet rattling that took up residence in his chest. Something wasn’t right with her partner, and she was going to figure out what it was even if it killed her.

It probably wouldn’t take long. She could always read Fox Mulder better than anyone.

* * *

 

It was cold. Really cold. Really freaking cold for February, and Mulder was freezing. He didn’t have anywhere to go tonight, so he’d picked a nice, secluded alley, shoved his phone and his wallet as deep in his pocket as they could go, and curled up with his blanket tossed over him. His extra suit was tucked away in the office somewhere and all he really had on him was food. The only motels within walking distance of his work were all filled up, with good reason probably.

Because it was cold.

Now, he really, really wished he could call Scully. But his phone was dead and his charger was in his desk drawer… He swallowed again and ducked his head against the bite of the cold wind. He peeked up when he heard a shuffle of movement in front of him. Another homeless guy was trying to find a place to get out of the wind. Mulder smiled faintly and stretched out his legs, standing. “Hey, man,” he called out.

The other man, who was examining behind the dumpster, looked up. “I don’t want any trouble,” he said, holding his hands up and backing up. “I’ll back out of your space…” Mulder shook his head, taking the blanket off of his shoulders. The other homeless guy couldn’t be older than 21… He looked like a kid. “No, it’s fine. Please. You take it.” He held out the blanket. “You can have this, too.” The kid hesitated, inching forward slightly. “Really, man?” he said. He looked Mulder up and down. “You should keep it…” Mulder shook his head again. “You need it more than me.” When the boy finally took it, Mulder leaned back slightly and coughed. He resisted the urge to pull at his loose tie again, his breathing harsh.

The kid frowned again, concerned, and inched forward. “Uh… You alright, man?” Mulder nodded, coming out the other end of the coughing fit. “Yeah. Yeah, fine. Here…” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. Skimming the cash he had in it, he decided on pulling out a 20 dollar bill, which he held out. “You can take this, too.” The kid shook his head. “No, man, I can’t take your money, too.” Mulder smiled, remembering the older woman from the Walmart. “Go on,” he said. “You need it more than me. Get yourself a nice meal. Repay me by paying it forward.” The kid smiled, glancing up at him. “Thanks,” he said. He took the bill and tucked it in his pocket. “I… I will.” Mulder smiled at him. “Go on, kid,” he said. The kid smiled again. “Really, sir,” he said, “thanks.”

“Mulder,” he said, giving the kid another smile. “Fox Mulder. Look me up when you get out of here, kid.” The kid nodded again. “Thank you,” he said again, and he disappeared into the darkness of the February night.

The memory of the smile on the kid’s face kept Mulder warm for quite a bit that night.

* * *

 

But not too much, because when he walked into the office at 6:30 am the next morning, he was still shivering. He quickly changed into his cleaner suit and swapped ties before Scully came in and stuck himself into his desk chair. He hunched his shoulders, digging one of his hands into the armrest as another coughing fit wracked his lean frame. He’d lost a bit of weight recently, too. He blinked slowly, trying to focus. He had to open his computer… Open up that file. Get to work _. Come on, Mulder_ , he tried to tell himself. _Come on, Mulder. Get to work._

But he was tired, so tired… And everything hurt…

He was jolted from his stupor when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He blinked slowly. “Scully?” he mumbled. “Oh, Mulder,” she said. “Mulder, you look awful. Come on. Let’s get you home.” He shook his slightly, his eyes glazed. “No, Scully,” he slurred. “Gotta stay… Gotta… I have to work, Scully…”

She shook her head, her brow furrowed. “You haven’t been right since we came back. You’re taking at least three consecutive sick days and _resting._ ” He blinked slowly again, trying to gather himself enough to speak back to that. He didn’t have a home, except Scully. He didn’t have anywhere to go back to. He tried to tell her, but he couldn’t because yet another coughing fit wracked him. He grabbed weakly at his tie, trying to loosen it. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe, his chest hurt, and he couldn’t _breathe._ “Mulder,” Scully said, crouching next to him. “Come on, I’m taking you to the hospital, Mulder…” He opened his mouth again and tried to speak as she helped him to his feet.

He teetered on his feet, swaying slightly. “Stay here, Mulder,” she said, holding loosely to his wrist. Let me get my bag, I just set it down. I’ll call Skinner and I’ll get you home, okay?”

“Okay,” he said softly, but he wasn’t really there. “Okay, Dana…”

Scully crossed the room to get her bag. For some reason, Mulder’s heart clenched. He could take care of himself. He’d taken care of himself ever since he was 12 years old! He could take care of himself fine… He took a step towards the door of the basement office, swallowing roughly, his chest seizing again. He took another step, his legs shaking, and before he knew it, he was coughing again and he couldn’t breathe and the ground was rushing up to meet him-

“Fox!”

Scully was there… That was nice. Scully was there… He loved Scully… “I love you, Scully,” Mulder slurred between coughs. “No, no, no, Mulder,” she said. “No, save your breath. Come on, breathe. I’ll get an ambulance.” He shook his head slightly. He didn’t want to get up. The carpet was so soft… He suddenly felt the need to tell Scully that he couldn’t go home because he didn’t have one. “Scully…” he said. “Da… Dana…”

“No, Mulder,” she said, pulling his tie off. “Mulder, please… Stay awake. Breathe for me, Mulder. Open those beautiful eyes… Come on, please, keep them open. Mulder, for me… Please…”

He tried. He really did try. He’d do anything for her. But his chest hurt so much, and he _couldn’t_ hold on. His eyes fluttered shut and everything faded away but Scully.

* * *

 

_“Ground control to Major Tom…”_

The bed was soft.

Wait, the bed was soft? He didn’t have a bed. Even if he still had his apartment, he wouldn’t have a bed.

Where was he?

_“Ground control to Major Tom…”_

He felt tired and heavy. His chest ached dully, but it was faint. Everything else just felt… Numb. He couldn’t feel.

_“Take your protein pills and put your helmet on.”_

Mulder pulled his heavy-lidded eyes open, and a swath of dark color greeted him. Wait… Why was a splash of color hanging in midair?

He blinked slowly again, and Scully’s face swam into focus. Oh, Scully. Scully was there. That was good. He might have said something to her before he’d passed out, but he was so tired. The tired was deep in his very bones.

_“Ground control to Major Tom…”_

“Scul… Scully,” he said, blinking one more time.

She smiled at him, picking up her phone from her lap.

_“Ten… Nine… Eight… Seven... Six…”_

She clicked her phone and the music stopped. “Thought you’d want to hear your favorite song instead of my grating voice,” she said. Mulder smiled. “Wanna hear you any… Any day,” he said finally.

Scully shook her head. “No, no. Fox Mulder, you do not do that to me. I am very angry with you right now, don’t go and be all…” She wrinkled her nose. “Adorable and charming…”  Mulder smiled weakly. “Sorry,” he said. “No, I take that back,” she said. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, not this time. You were living on the street, Mulder!”

Mulder exhaled softly, and that was when he registered that there was an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose. “So you… You figured out about… About that?” Scully snorted. “Yeah, I did. Ever since we’ve been back, Mulder? Really? I went by your apartment to grab you a change of clothes and I figured out from your landlord – I still have the key to your old apartment, by the way – that you haven’t lived there for a week.”

Mulder winced, sighing slightly. “You could have told me,” she said, softening. “I would’ve let you stay with me. I have a great couch, by the way.” Mulder smiled slightly again. ‘Didn’t wanna…” She interrupted him again. “No, don’t talk about not wanting to bother me. Fox Mulder, you are my best friend, and I love you. You will _never_ bother me, not when it’s as important as this. Nothing will ever be as important as your health and wellbeing, Fox.”

His heart tightened, but not in a bad way.

“Speaking of health,” she continued. “Pneumonia, by the way. Accompanied with a nasty bout of the flu.” She sighed and shook her head. “Really, Mulder? We’re not as young as we used to be. You can’t go running around out in the cold like this. Sleeping on the street. You’ll catch your death!”

He smiled softly again. “I’ll tell you next… Next time.” Scully chuckled. “There better not be a next time,” she said. “I forbid a next time. Because until further notice, you’re sleeping on my couch.” He frowned slightly and opened his mouth to protest, but Scully wouldn’t let him. “No. Quiet, you. They’re discharging you to me hopefully in a day or so.” Scully stood up from her hospital chair and took his hand. He could feel the warmth spreading through his body at the familiar touch. Familiar, but different…

Scully pushed his hair back tenderly, and smiled softly at him. “Never be afraid to talk to me, Mulder,” she told him. “I don’t care what it is or how old we are. Never be afraid to talk to me. Don’t be a stranger, Mulder.” He nodded slightly. “I won’t,” he promised.

Scully smiled, satisfied with his answer. “Good,” she said. She leaned forward again and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Now, focus on getting better so we can go home.”

Home… Home was a strange thing, he though. As long as Scully was there, he _was_ home.


End file.
